by Jessie Cooke
“Chuck.”
Hunter snorted. “That was it? Chuck?”
“I didn’t think I needed any more than that,” Larry said.
“What did he look like?” Hunter stuck his free hand in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. While Larry was talking, he fished out a photo of Jeffrey McCallister. It was an employee photo from the firm he’d worked for over ten years ago, but it was all he had.
“He was a tall, good-looking guy with brown hair and dark eyes. He was dressed nicely, khaki pants and a polo shirt…”
“This wasn’t him, was it?” Hunter held out the photo. McCallister looked nothing like Larry’s description.
“No. That guy is bald. The guy I talked to had lots of hair, thick, and styled on top.”
“What if this guy was wearing a wig, or toupee?”
Larry shook his head. “No, the guy I was talking to was younger. He couldn’t have been more than thirty. He had a nice smile too…that guy looks mean.”
Hunter shook his head. “Larry, the guy set you up.”
“Yeah, I know,” Larry said with a pout. “Anyways, that picture is not him.”
Hunter sat the photo down and said, “Okay, back to your reason for bailing. Trayvon now thinks you set them up that night. How did you manage to avoid the whole gang until you got arrested?”
“Word on the street was that I was a dead motherfucker,” Larry said. “I came here and Claire did what she could to help me, but I knew I couldn’t stay here forever, just hiding. That’s why I tried to boost that bracelet from the pawnshop. I needed cash. I went to Dorchester to do it in case I got caught.” He looked at Claire and said, “I really was trying to keep you out of it.”
She nodded and Hunter said, “Yet, after you skipped bail, you stuck around and bought a prostitute instead of leaving town right away.”
Larry looked at his daughter again and his face colored as he said, “A man has got his needs…you know?”
Claire looked embarrassed again and said, “Let’s talk about what we can do now. Can I pay his bail so your boss doesn’t lose any money? I could probably get a loan for the full fifty thousand…”
Hunter was shaking his head. “His bail was set at fifty grand, but at this point, counting the fees for him not showing up in court and the fees Chase would charge, you’d be looking at upwards of a hundred grand.”
Claire’s face was pale as she looked over at Larry. “I don’t have that kind of money, Dad. If the Inn was in my name I would mortgage it…”
“Seriously?” Hunter said. He couldn’t control himself. “You would mortgage your livelihood for this loser? He’s a petty crook and he doesn’t have the brains that God gave a goat…”
“He’s my father!” she said, getting to her feet. Her eyes were blazing as she looked at Hunter and said, “I can’t stop you from doing your job, but you won’t talk about my father that way in my home.”
Hunter looked at Larry and back at Claire and said, “Are you sure he’s your father? I mean, did you have a DNA test?” For the second time since he met her, Claire hit him.
10
Claire stood there with her hand stinging, looking down at Hunter, who hadn’t even flinched when she slapped him. She didn’t know what had gotten into her lately. She wasn’t a violent person, at least until she met him. He still had that gun pointed at Larry, though, and she hated that. Her entire life she’d dreamt of having a father. She hated that the one she finally found was a criminal, but aside from that, he wasn’t a bad guy and no one seemed to know that. She knew that was his fault too. He was his own worst enemy.
“I’m sorry,” she said, nervously. What the hell was I thinking? He has a gun! Hunter’s big hazel eyes almost looked amused, though. She liked his own eyes so much better than the blue contacts he’d been wearing when he checked into the Inn. She remembered when she saw him that first night that his hair had been darker too and he’d had a five-o’clock shadow. He hadn’t even looked the same, clean-shaven and a blue-eyed blond. If she’d recognized him when he checked in, this could have all been avoided. Of course, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself around him. He provoked feelings in her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. The last thing she needed to do was catch feelings for some bounty hunter slash biker that wanted to kill her father. But it was hard not to notice how sexy he was.
Hunter’s lips twitched as he said, “Don’t be sorry. At least you didn’t use a pipe this time.” She sighed. She was almost more ashamed of herself for lusting after the man that wanted to kill her father than she was at hitting him in the head with a pipe. She supposed that it could be worse. He could have shot her just for that alone. She dropped back down to the couch, frustrated. Larry started to stand to go to her and Hunter said, “Don’t.”
Her father sat back down and said, “It’s okay, honey. At least we got to meet each other and spend a little time together. At least if I die now, there will be one person in the world who cares.” She almost rolled her eyes at his dramatics. He wasn’t helping himself, as usual. She doubted that Hunter’s heartstrings were tugged even a little bit.
“Look, I can’t let you go,” Hunter said to him. “Not only would I lose my job, but I know my boss and he’d come after everything Claire has to get his money back. Is that what you want?” Larry shook his head, but looked down at the floor and not at Claire. “If I take you back to jail, then the bail fee goes away and Claire is off the hook.” Larry nodded that time but when he lifted his head, Claire could see the fear in his eyes. That wasn’t dramatics, it was real.
“They’ll kill him,” she almost whispered.
“I know,” Hunter said. With a heavy sigh he said, “Maybe I can do something to help there.”
Larry’s pout was replaced by a hopeful look. Claire was suspicious. Why does this man, who so obviously despises Larry, want to help? Before she caught herself, she said, “Why?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why would you want to help? I mean, I’m not telling you not to, but I’m confused. What’s in it for you?”
Hunter looked directly into her eyes then and with a little smile he said, “Probably nothing.” Something about the way he was looking at her caused her body to shiver. Pulling out of his gaze was difficult, but when she managed it, she looked at Larry and reminded herself that this was about him and not her libido.
“Maybe we should call your attorney before this goes any further.”
“Let’s hear him out,” Larry said. Claire sighed again. One thing she had learned about her father was that he was always looking for the easy way out. You would think a man who was almost fifty years old and constantly in trouble would learn that the easy way is not always the best.
“You can call your attorney, that’s fine. But if you want my guarantee that you’ll be safe while you’re in county waiting to go to trial, I need your word that you’re not going to repeat what you just told me to anyone else unless I tell you to, and that includes your attorney.”
“Who else would I tell?” Larry asked.
“Why can’t he tell his attorney?” Claire asked at the same time.
“I’ve heard some of the things that come out of your mouth, Larry. You’re going to need to grow a filter if you want to stay alive,” Hunter said. Then he turned to Claire and said, “You have to trust me on this.”
“I don’t even know you. Why would I trust you to guarantee his safety, especially when you’re telling him not to tell his lawyer things?” Claire asked. “He says this street gang and that MC run that jail. How will you keep him safe in a place like that?”
“If he does what I’m telling him to do, the MC will keep him safe. They outnumber Chaos behind bars at least two to one.”
“And how are you going to get the MC to agree to that?”
“Before I take him in, I’ll take him to the ranch. We’ll tell them everything he’s told me and anything else he might remember about Chuck.”
“The ranch? You’re taking me to th
e Skulls?” Larry interrupted in a shaky voice. Claire knew the Skulls ran the Southside because Larry had told her, but she didn’t know what this ranch was they were talking about. There was real fear in Larry’s eyes again, though, and it worried her.
“Dad, I’m calling your attorney. You’re not selling your soul to one gang, just to get protection from another.”
“That attorney was appointed by the court, honey, and he doesn’t give a shit about me,” Larry said. She could see his hands shaking. She realized that Larry wasn’t sure who to be more afraid of, Street Chaos or the MC. He had a chip on his shoulder about cops and attorneys thanks to his history, but Claire thought they were probably the least of three evils here.
“Dad, your attorney has already helped you. He’s the one that argued for bail,” she said. “If not for that you might be in jail and dead already.”
“He did his job,” Hunter said, before Larry had a chance to say anything. “But Larry’s right that they don’t honestly give a shit. They lose money on the pro-bono cases they’re forced to take, so most of them are not going to go above and beyond for their clients. It’s doubtful that Larry will even have the same court-appointed lawyer once he’s back inside. It’s even more unlikely that he’ll have one that will fight for him to be put in protective custody. A judge would only order PC if he had something more compelling than Larry hearing on the street that he’s a dead mofo.” He looked at Larry and asked, “You want to admit that you were involved in Chaos jacking that car?” Larry shook his head. “Good, because you do that and you’ll be on your own in Gen Pop, surrounded by members of Chaos and the Southside Skulls, who will both be pissed off at you by that point.”
“I’m confused,” Claire said.
“I can’t go into all of the details,” Hunter said. “But, Dax Marshall will be grateful for the information that Larry just gave me and because of our relationship, he will be willing to have his guys inside make sure nothing happens to your father if I ask him to.”
Claire and Larry looked at each other. She could see that he wanted to accept Hunter’s deal, but he was deferring to her. Sometimes it was more like she’d found her long-lost, unruly son, rather than her father. Looking back at Hunter she said, “Okay, but give me an hour or two to find someone that can watch the Inn for me?”
“Why would you need someone to watch the Inn?” Hunter asked.
“Because I’m going with you. I want to hear what this Dax Marshall has to say.”
Hunter made Larry put handcuffs on and get in the front seat, and then he put Claire on the passenger side of the backseat so that he could see her in the rearview mirror. She didn’t blame him, given her tendency to hit him. As Hunter drove and Larry rambled about mostly nonsense, Claire stared at the window and wondered how her life had come to this. She knew where it had all started…that horrible night that had scarred her forever and caused a rift between her and her mother that she’d regret for the rest of her life.
Claire was two years old when her mother moved to Italy with her to meet and marry a man she’d been talking to online. Claire was too young to remember the move, or the man, since the marriage was over before her third birthday. Her mother was always looking for “the one.” Claire was well taken care of despite her mother’s unrelenting search for the perfect man…but her ideas about relationships were warped even before her mother remarried and much more so later on. For years she watched as her mother conducted a relentless search for true love. The other women in the little village they lived in called her “Donna Libera” behind her back. That meant “loose woman” in English and the place they lived in the Tuscany hillside was too small for those hateful words to not make it back to Celine’s and Claire’s ears. Celine said the women were just jealous of her, but Claire knew it hurt her feelings. At the same time she felt sorry for her, though, Claire was also embarrassed and ashamed. Everyone she went to school with seemed to come from a happy family with two happy parents and lots of siblings. She imagined that she was the only one who came from a broken home…and then when she was ten years old, her mother met a man and they got married. Claire thought that their family was finally complete…but boy, was she wrong. It would take years for her to figure that out, though, and by that time she’d be messed up…beyond repair. That was why she left Italy and went in search of her father. She needed a fresh start, a new life. The old one was killing her and, she imagined, everyone around her.
All Celine had ever told her about Larry was his name and that he had lived in or near Dorchester eighteen years before. When Claire got to Massachusetts, the first thing she did was to get a job. She lucked into the one at the B & B in Rockport, and they offered room and board along with the job. She worked hard all week, and spent her days off, checking the Dorchester hall of records, looking for her father. It was a public arrest report that finally led her to him. The people she was working for, an elderly couple that came to think of her like a daughter, were worried when she first brought Larry into her life. They warned her that he’d try to take advantage of her, but with all of Larry’s shortcomings, Claire found out that a lack of loyalty was not one of them. He was genuinely thrilled when she showed up on his doorstep, and she believed with all her heart that he wanted to have a father/daughter relationship. Larry needed her to keep him straight, and Claire needed someone to need her, so it worked out great…for a while.
Claire glanced up from looking out the window and her eyes caught Hunter’s in the rearview mirror. Another violent shudder ripped through her body and again she had to remind herself who he was. She tore her gaze away from his and returned to the window. Hunter passed the signs for Dorchester and he didn’t exit the highway for another fifteen or twenty miles. He took the exit toward the Southside, but he drove through without stopping. He got on another highway and followed that road toward the mountains for another fifteen or twenty minutes until he turned again, this time onto a dirt road, that wound up into the foothills. Eventually they came to a gate and a guard shack. Claire’s stomach twisted into knots when she saw the man that was standing outside of it. He was holding a big gun for one thing. It looked like the kind of guns she’d only seen on TV, and like it could do a lot of damage. The man himself would have been scary-looking even if he hadn’t been armed. He wasn’t that tall, maybe just barely six-foot…but his chest was as big as a barrel and his shoulders had to measure four or five feet across. His t-shirt hugged his biceps and tattoos covered both of his arms. His face was mostly hidden by a long, black beard and he was wearing a black vest with a skull emblem on the front. The name stitched underneath it said “Moose.” Claire thought that appropriate.
“Hey, Moose!” Hunter said as he rolled down the window. “How’s it hangin’?”
“You know, when I don’t have my jeans on, it drags the floor, Hunter.” The two men and even Larry laughed. Claire rolled her eyes. Men and the size of their penis…she’d never understand it. “Who you got there?” Moose asked, looking inside the car.
Hunter cocked his head sideways and said, “This is Larry, and that’s his daughter Claire. Dax is expecting us.”
“Alright,” Moose said. “Gimme a minute and I’ll call up front.” He smiled at Claire. She gave him a polite smile in return. That seemed to make him happy. He went back into the guard shack and a few seconds later waved them through. Claire watched out the window once again as they drove along the now gravel road. Rolling hills led away from the road and trees dotted the countryside. There was a long barbed-wire fence and every so often she’d see a horse or cow behind it. This didn’t look at all like where she imagined bikers would live, until they got close enough for her to see the buildings. To the left was a huge shop. It looked like an auto mechanic’s shop with rollup doors, but bigger than any she’d ever seen. To the right was a cement building, two stories tall and painted white. In the center of it was a red circle and inside that, a black skull. The skull seemed to be made to frighten or terrorize, and Claire wondered how
they could stand to look at it every day. There were Harley Davidson bikes everywhere and a few guys dressed the same as Moose milling around out front. Hunter parked the car and came around to the passenger side. He opened her door first and let her out. He looked like he was going to say something to her, but changed his mind. He let Larry out next and the first thing her father said was:
“Can we lose the cuffs? I don’t want to walk through there like this.”
“Too bad,” Hunter said, gruffly.
“It’s okay, Dad. This will be over soon.” Or so she hoped. Hunter led them up to the front door of the clubhouse, stopping to chat with the men outside for a few seconds. Claire didn’t like the way the men looked at her, like she was a piece of meat, hanging on a rack and being dressed for their dinner. She found herself stepping closer to Hunter as they went inside. It was like stepping into another world for Claire. The place was huge and at first glance just looked like a large bar. There were tables set around in a semi-circle and a long bar in the center with beer on tap, bottles of alcohol on a shelf behind it, and stools riveted to the floor along the front of it. There was a jukebox and in the far back there were pool tables and dartboards. The difference here from any bar Claire had ever stepped into was the clientele. The men that sat belly up to the bar all wore leather vests like the one that Moose had on, and women milled around dressed in anything from tight jeans to micro-mini skirts. Most of them wore thick make-up and a couple of them were sitting in the laps of the grizzly-looking bikers who sat at the tables, drinking already. A layer of smoke hung over her head, tobacco mixed with the strong smell of skunk…weed. The couple behind the bar were the only ones that didn’t look like they were off the set of a movie even though they both wore leather vests. She was small in stature with long, straight, light brown hair with blonde highlights. She didn’t have on any make-up other than pink lip gloss and the shirt she wore underneath her vest covered all her skin. He had black dreadlocks and the most startling blue eyes that Claire had ever seen. He was clean-shaven and his face looked young and fresh. Claire thought he’d look more appropriate slinging drinks on an island somewhere, rather than a biker clubhouse. He smiled at Hunter when they walked in, but the woman’s eyes were on her, not in an unfriendly way, necessarily, but suspicious.
